


the ghost was you

by brilliantbanshee



Series: Tarlos Week 2020 [5]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: (okay more than a bit), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Everyone is a bit worried in this one, M/M, Mentions of Gun Violence, Mentions of the rest of the 126, Worried Owen Strand, Worried TK Strand, but just a mention, watch me not write smut and write this instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26763772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantbanshee/pseuds/brilliantbanshee
Summary: Something happens and TK fears the worst. He waits at home for the inevitable phone call that will break his heart, but hope may not be quite as far gone as he thinks.---Tarlos Week Day 5: "I thought I lost you"
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Tarlos Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942255
Comments: 13
Kudos: 139
Collections: 9-1-1 Lone Star ▶ Carlos Reyes / Tyler Kennedy "TK" Strand





	the ghost was you

**Author's Note:**

> Today's prompt was actually "I thought I lost you" + Sexy, and I just don't really do that; so you got this instead. 
> 
> Title from "Dearly Departed" by Shakey Graves

It was all over the news. 

TK had just gotten home with the promised groceries for dinner when his phone rang. It was Marjan, her voice panicked and tight as she told him to drop whatever he was doing and turn on the news. So he had, and immediately felt the weight of the world crashing around him. 

_“APD officers gunned down at scene”_ the scrolling bar at the bottom of the screen declared “ _multiple casualties, exact number unknown.”_

TK sank into the nearest chair, phone shaking in his trembling hand. He thanked Marjan and then promptly hung up. He tried calling Carlos. After a minute of agonizing ringing, his voicemail picked up, and what little hope TK had shrunk. He tried again with the same result. He tried calling the station directly, he tried calling Mya. No answer. Tonight the Austin Police Department was an unbreachable wall. He could not get through. He called Carlos one more time, hope swelling as it rang. Maybe this was it - maybe the third time was the charm. 

There was no answer. At least he had the solace of hearing Carlos’s voice on the recording. If he closed his eyes it was the same voice that whispered sweet nothings to him. If he closed his eyes and pretended, it was all alright. 

But it wasn’t, so he hung up the phone and closed his eyes. Just for a minute. He just needed a minute. 

When he opened his eyes he turned his attention back to two things: the news and his phone. The news was largely the same - no new footage, no new updates. Just the same announcement scrolling across the bottom banner; just the same feeling of dread in his gut. 

He scrolled through his texts. There seemed to be one from everyone he knew in Austin - except for anyone who could actually give him the answers he so desperately needed. Judd and Paul both tried to call. He declined them both. 

He needed to keep the line clear - just in case. 

The only call he answered was his father. Even that doesn’t happen until the third time. 

“Have you heard anything?” was the first thing Owen asked when the call connected. 

“No,” TK replied, surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded already. 

“I’m coming to you now. I just need to get my things together and check out of the hotel. It’s just going to take me a few minutes to leave, and then I am on my way.”

“No, Dad, you don’t need to. You’re in Dallas, you’re supposed to be giving a speech at the conference tomorrow. You don’t have to--” 

“TK, I’m coming, there’s no point in arguing. You do not have to be on your own for this.”

TK had planned on objecting again, on telling his dad not to bother, that he would be fine; but the news broadcast chose that moment to switch to a wide-angle lens and suddenly TK could see more of the scene. His breath and any words he may have uttered were stuck in his throat. 

“TK! TK, talk to me, what’s going on?” Distantly he could hear his dad’s voice on the phone, somewhere in his mind he registered the panic in his tone but the rest of his mind was focused on one thing and one thing only - a familiar squad car, empty and parked at the scene. 

Air was hard to find. He knew it was there but he couldn’t manage to complete the process of bringing it in from his mouth into his lungs. The sight of the familiar vehicle - car 142 - at the scene had robbed him of that particular bodily function. _Carlos was there._

“Tyler Kennedy Strand, I swear to all that is holy…” 

Only the shock of hearing his entire name shouted by his usually affable father could have brought him back to the present. He lifted the phone back to his ear with a shaking hand.

“It’s his car Dad - his cruiser, it’s there. He’s _there,_ Dad.” 

Or, at least, he had been. 

He knew what this all added up to, he knew what that meant. He could hear his dad on the phone distantly; trying to reassure him, telling him there were any number of reasons why the cruiser could be there, that it didn’t have to mean what it likely did. He appreciated the effort. 

Eventually, he lifted the phone back up to his ear. “I’m going to hang up now dad,” he announced plainly, surprising even himself with the level of calm in his voice. 

“No, TK, I’m almost to the car. When I get there I’ll text Judd or someone to come over. Just... stay on the line with me for a little longer.” The fear in his dad’s voice made his heart twist. 

“Don’t worry Dad, I’m not going to do anything, I swear. I just...I need to keep the line open.” 

He knew what that sight meant. He knew what call he would get - it was just a matter of time.

Owen’s voice was softer as he spoke, “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you, son.” 

“Love you too, Dad,” TK choked out - his frayed nerves making a reappearance - before he hung up the phone. Then it was just him, the empty house, and the news still broadcasting that image. He got up and began to pace, phone clutched tightly in his hand. 

He had always known this was a possibility, had always understood on some level that this might happen. He had always expected this fear and grief; he just hadn’t expected the waiting. 

He debated driving to the precinct but dismissed the idea. Much better to have his world shattered in their home than in public, he supposed. If only they would just let him know; the waiting was eating at him. The delay wouldn’t dull the pain. If anything, it made it starker. 

He was on his fourth lap of the living room, white knuckles still wrapped around his phone when he heard the door open. He sighed in frustration as he turned around. 

“Judd,” he said as he turned, “you didn’t have to come over. I’m…”

But once he was fully turned around and facing the new arrival his voice caught in his throat. His chest constricted; he couldn’t breathe. His phone clattering to the floor from slack fingers was the only sound. TK took a hesitant step forward. 

“Carlos?” he choked out, voice hesitant; unwilling to believe the miracle in front of him. The figure nodded, and took a step closer. 

“How...the shooting...your cruiser...I thought you were dead.” 

“Sorry to disappoint you.” 

The response - wry as it was - spoken in Carlos’s voice, from Carlos’s lips broke the spell. TK closed the distance between them and threw his arms around the person he thought he’d never see again; the love he had been mourning. He held on tight, pressing his face into the space just above Carlos’s neck he knew so well. He ignored the tears that flowed freely down his face, soaking Carlos’s shoulder and instead savored the feel of _Carlos_ \- his warmth, his scent, his presence. Carlos was here; Carlos was okay. He was _alive_. 

Familiar arms wrapped themselves around him and a warm, wonderfully familiar voice muttered reassurances into his hair. TK ignored the specifics, too lost in this incredible miracle to focus on anything so mundane. 

They stood at the edge of the living room what could have been an eternity, but TK couldn’t bring himself to care. As long as they were here, he would take all the time in the world. 

His phone, abandoned on the floor, was dancing across the carpet with calls and texts from his friends and family. A part of him knew that he was being selfish; knew that they all deserved to know as well. But for this moment he embraced it - he was going to take this time, just for them. 

Eventually, he found his voice. He pulled back just enough to look in Carlos’s eyes - those warm, bright, beautiful eyes that he could get lost in - and studied him. He looked worn and tired, but unharmed. There were questions to be asked and answered; there were things to talk through. Soon they would have to take the next step and Carlos would have to deal with whatever had happened, and TK would help him every step of the way. But for now, they were here, and TK needed Carlos to know. 

**“I thought I’d lost you,”** he confessed quietly, softly in the hope that he didn’t break this spell. 

Carlos tightened his arms around him, “You nearly did,” he admitted, voice soft and shaky. 

There was an obvious question now floating in the air between them. TK had felt Carlos tense in anticipation of it. And they would talk about it, soon. But TK was more than willing to give Carlos a little time. He could stay in this moment forever. 

He knew they couldn’t; but a little longer wouldn’t hurt. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://brilliantbanshee.tumblr.com/)


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